Prince Charming's Daughter
by 0u812
Summary: Daddy Charming all the way. This is a one shot or possibly a series of one shots (as I get ideas for scenes). You may see Snow, Henry, or baby Neal pop up here and there because they are family and sometimes they are needed to move the scene along. But this is definitely Daddy Charming Centric. AU but takes place in Storybrooke.
1. Chapter 1

**I had this idea pop into my head over the weekend and I couldn't get it out until I wrote it down. It was blocking any creative flow that I had for The Past Never Forgets. So it is a Daddy Charming one shot. But if I get more ideas for Daddy Charming scenes, I may add to this. So, please enjoy! I hope you like it, let me know what you think. Please Review. **

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When I said that I was taking Henry to Boston for the day, I wasn't expecting my father and little brother to tag along. But I wasn't going to turn down spending time with my Dad either. Henry was getting ready for his first formal high school dance and I thought that I would make it special for him by taking him to the city to buy him a suit and get him a nice hair cut. It was teacher in-service day at the school so Mary Margaret was going to be busy the entire day which left my Dad to care for my baby brother, Neal. So when I offered, for David and Neal to tag along, David jumped at the chance.

David had asked me to add him to the reservation at the hair salon, if it wasn't too late. He had been meaning to get his locks trimmed and if he was going to be sitting there anyway, why not get his hair cut too. They were able to squeeze him in, but it was going to be after Henry's appointment. I sat on the leather lounge and entertained my little brother while I waited. The salon had a little set of busy beads sitting in the corner and it was the perfect distraction for the little toddler. My distraction, however, was in the store next door, The Coffee Break. The smell of fresh ground coffee wafted through air. And when Henry walked back into the waiting area, I couldn't take it anymore.

"How's it look?" my son asked as he approached me. I was sitting in the corner where I had Neal trapped from running around the salon.

"Wow!" I responded. "Very handsome," I couldn't believe that this was my son standing in front of me. He was becoming a young man, a young man that I was so very proud of, but there was a small part of me that wished he was still a little boy; a little boy who would climb up in my lap and wrap his little arms around me and give me a quick kiss on the cheek. Much like my little brother was doing just now, as he abandoned the busy beads. I had missed out on all of that with Henry when I gave him up for adoption. But I was so very grateful to have him back in my life. It was when Neal did these little things that really made me realize not only what I missed with Henry as he was growing up but also what I missed with my parents as I was growing up. Which was why I wasn't disappointed when David said that he would accompany us to Boston, I wanted to make the most of the moments that we had now.

"Ah, that smell, it's breaking me…" Henry laughed at my over exaggerated reaction to the smell of the coffee house next door. I looked over to him, "go tell Gramps that we're going next door for coffee."

"Ok," Henry jumped up and disappeared for a couple of moments. "He said that he'll meet us there, he'll take care of the bill here," Henry announced on his way back to me.

"Awesome, I love having a father to spoil me," I said it more to myself, but I soon realized that Henry heard what I said.

"You're welcome," he said with a sly grin. That kid was too smart for his own damn good. I knew that he was referring to the fact that it was he who found me and brought me back to my parents after 28 years.

But instead of responding to his comment I just picked up my little brother and perched him on my hip, "Grab Neal's bag, please Henry?"

Henry complied and followed me next door to the coffee house. I knew to get my father a cup with my order and Henry grabbed a bottle of juice from the cooler. "Milk," Neal shouted as he followed Henry with his eyes.

"Chocolate or white?" I asked him as he struggled to get down.

"Choco…" was his answer, I don't know why I even asked to be honest. When given the choice it was always chocolate.

I set him down on the floor as it was my turn to order, "Go with Henry," I told Neal. As he toddled over to his nephew I called to Henry, "he wants chocolate milk." Henry nodded in response to me and held his hand out to Neal to grab a hold.

I quickly made my order for two coffees, "and these, " I said as Henry placed the juice and milk on the counter.

"That will be $12.39," the clerk said with no enthusiasm whatsoever. I handed him a twenty, "you're last name please?"

"Swan," I said with a defeated smile, because it was at that time that Neal decided to run to the back of the store. "Henry, go get him," I said with a disgusted sigh. Henry quickly took off after him and dragged him back to the front of the store where I was waiting for my order.

"Here Neal," I said as I took the cap off of his milk. I placed a straw in the container to make it a little easier for him to drink it. He quickly took the milk from my hands holding it with two chubby little hands of his own. As I bent down to pick him up, I saw two well dressed legs standing awfully close to me and my little brother. I looked up to see a very handsome older gentlemen looking at me very longingly with his wife, I was assuming, standing next to him with her arm linked in his.

"Excuse me; did you say that your name was Swan?" I looked at him very skeptically. They must have been standing behind me in line.

"Yeah," I said cautiously.

"You wouldn't be Emma, would you?" the lady asked.

"Depends on who's asking," It was a little rude but these two were creeping me out. Especially when the woman reached out to hold Neal with a huge, dare I say it, proud smile on her face?

I quickly jerked him back from her reach, "do I know you?" I didn't recognize either of these two people and for her to be reaching for Neal like she knew me was just wrong.

They both looked at me like I was their long lost child, and with each passing second I would take another ½ of step back.

"Mom?" Henry said as he stepped next to me.

I didn't take my gaze off of them while I answered Henry. "What?"

"Your order is ready; they called your name…" He said.

I gave my son a sideways glance, "Go grab it, please." He nodded and walked away, I turned my attention back to the two in front of me.

The lady had put her hands up to her mouth and looked as if she was on the verge of tears. "Oh my god, Darren," the lady squeaked through her hands that were now folded in front of her mouth like she was praying. "These two would have been our grandchildren."

My eyes went wide, no huge, and I took another step back, "I'm sorry, what the hell did you just say?"

"Oh, please, let me hold him, he is so adorable." She started to step toward me with her hands out to grab Neal. I tightened my grip on my baby brother.

Darren reached out and pulled his wife back, "Jane, she doesn't remember us," he said to her. Both of them suddenly had a look of heartbreak in their eyes. But the names struck a chord with me, Darren and Jane. Darren and Jane Swan were standing in front of me, and Jane was claiming my brother and son as her would be grandchildren. And she was acting like she was their grandmother.

"Look how handsome he is, Darren," she said as Henry approached with the coffees. She reached up and cupped his cheeks, much like my mother; my actual mother, Mary Margaret had done so often.

"Ah Mom…" Henry started but I grabbed his arm and pulled him away from her and closer to me. I looked to the door when I heard the bell ring. I was never so happy to see my father walking toward us.

I was certain that he could tell by the look on my face that something was wrong, "Emma?" his voice was raised with concern. He stepped behind me and put his hands on my shoulders in a very protective manner.

Darren reached out his hand toward David to shake, "You must Emma's husband," he assumed; very incorrectly assumed. "Darren and Jane Swan, we were Emma's Foster parents when she was a baby," he offered.

"Ah, I see." David reluctantly shook his hand. "David Nolan and I am not her husband." His words were cold and dry. David placed his hand back on my shoulder, and I could feel over protective Daddy mode taking over his emotions; mainly by the fact that he was squeezing my shoulders harder. I'm sure that if he hadn't been behind me I would have had an excellent view of the little vein popping out of his forehead. "I'm her father; her biological father."

I closed my eyes. I wasn't sure that it was a good idea to tell them that little piece of information. We weren't in Storybrooke, the rules of the real world applied in Boston. David pulled Neal from my arms and handed him to Henry; once Henry handed me the coffee cups; along with the keys to the car, "Henry take Neal to the car and wait for us, we'll only be a minute."

Henry looked at me and I nodded in agreement. "Ok," He said as he picked up Neal's bag and slung it over his free arm, "Come on, Neal."

It was obvious that David's revelation had stunned them. They stood there in silent shock. I'm certain that they were doing the math in their heads trying to figure out how it was possible that this man was my biological father. "Emma?" Darren finally questioned phishing for an explanation.

"What," I hissed.

"You're children are beautiful, they look just like you," Jane offered, she was trying to downplay the awkwardness or was it my obvious disdain that she was trying to smooth over. I didn't bother to correct her assumption that Neal was my son instead of my brother.

"I'm sorry, I have to ask, how are you possibly her biological father?" Darren puffed out his chest. Why this man had thought that he had any right at all to question me or David, I'll never understand. But it seemed that I had two men standing right next to me who were going to duel over who got to be my father.

"I don't believe that is any of your business." David finally released my shoulders and stepped in front of me. "You had your chance to love her and be her father, and you gave it up when you had your own kid. Leave mine the hell alone." I didn't miss the sad look that took over Jane's face when David mentioned them giving me up for their own child. "I gave her up for her own safety. I gave her up because I loved her and I needed to protect her. What's your excuse?"

"Dad," I tried to stop him. But he was having none of it.

"No Emma, I've waited a long time to say this. She was the most precious child that I had ever seen in my life. It killed me to give her up, but if I hadn't, she would most certainly be dead. I had hoped that she was placed with a family that could love her just as her mother and I love her, and she was placed with you. You had the chance to be her parents, to love her unconditionally, to watch her grow and transform into the beautiful, strong, courageous woman that she is today. You had the means to give her a fantastic life, and you gave her away because you couldn't love two children? Or because you didn't give birth to her? Make me understand. Make me understand how you could just give her back when you were set to adopt her and be her parents."

They both look away. Neither of them offered an explanation for their actions. "That's what I thought," David finished his tirade with one last comment. "You don't get to stand there and question anything about me or her. You will never know the facts and you will never understand the facts."

"We tried to get her back," Darren finally said. "We realized that our family wasn't complete without her, we called the social worker's office. We started to paperwork and the process to adopt her, but then Jacob, our son, got sick; with all of the medical bills, hospital stays, and the fact that we had given her back once…we were declined. Social services chose to leave her in her current placement. Not long after that we lost Jacob, to lymphoma."

"I'm so sorry for your loss," I offered to them. It was hard to harbor any anger towards them. They had lost their son and that was something that I couldn't even imagine.

I looked to my father when he began to speak, "I'm so sorry that you lost your son." He held out his hand to Darren, who accepted the friendly gesture. "But you don't get to have my daughter."

"Let's go, Emma." David placed his hand on the small of my back to escort me out of the coffee shop. I gave the Swan's a sympathetic smile as I passed them.

"It was nice to see you, again." I didn't know how else to leave it. I wasn't surprised that my father told them exactly what was on his mind or how he felt toward them. And I did feel bad about them losing Jacob, no parent should have to go through such a tragedy. But my father was right, they cannot reclaim me either. I have my parents and they are Prince Charming and Snow White.


	2. Chapter 2 - A Walk in the Park

**Thank you for all of the awesome support that you all gave me. I was overwhelmed with such a great response to chapter 1. My readers are the is a follow up to chapter 1. I thought that it needed some closure. And maybe a hug. But Please review and let me know what you think. Anyway, just an update on me, I am working on The Past Never Forgets also. This week was way too busy for me, my best friend's daughter was married this weekend, and I was the photographer for the wedding. So a little thing called life took some precedence. Anyway, enjoy...and if I happen to come up with another scene, or you have a scene in mind that you would like me to put in words let me know. If I can make it happen I will. But it must be Daddy Charming. **

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"Mom?" I looked over to Henry when he said my maternal moniker. I loved it when he called me Mom; it was something that I never grew tired of hearing. I knew what it meant to me and with as good as it made me feel I was certain that it meant the same to my parents when I called them mom and dad. "Is gramps ok?" He asked me. I could see the concern growing on his face for my father. David had been bit melancholy after our little run in with the Swans.

I knew that the tone for the day was changed as soon as we exited the coffee shop and David stopped me by pulling me into this bone crushing hug in the middle of the sidewalk. Although he waited until we were outside, there was no denying that he purposely did it in front of the coffee shop window in the perfect view of the Swans. He didn't say anything; he just hugged me and planted a kiss on the top of my head. And although I wasn't comfortable with his parental display of affection in the middle of a busy Boston sidewalk, I let him do it because I knew why he felt the need. Had it been the same situation with Henry, I probably would have done the same thing.

The car ride to the shopping center seemed a lot longer than the twenty minutes that the route actually took to complete. I was hoping that Henry wouldn't notice David's perpetual silence during our small journey to the men's store or his one word answers to questions when we entered. But who was I trying to kid, we all knew how perceptive Henry was and when it came to family that perception always seemed to be in overdrive.

I gave Henry a gentle smile then turned to step next to my father who was holding Neal while looking at the rack of men's sports coats. "Ma" my baby brother tried to say my name while he reached for me as I approached them. I held out my hands to pull the toddler close to me.

"Dad?" I settled Neal on my hip. Although he let me slip Neal from his hold, he really didn't seem to notice that I was talking to him. I put my hand on his arm, "Dad?"

"Huh…what?" He seemed to snap out of it but he still had a sad look in his face. "Oh sorry, Emma…"

"You're not okay. Want to talk about it?" He just gave me a smile at the same time that Neal put his little hands on my cheeks and pulled my face to his for a wet kiss. "Oh thank you, buddy." I put my cheek up to his little one so that we were both looking at my father, cheek to cheek, "so baby bro, what's up with Daddy?" It was obvious to me what was bothering him. My father was an easy person for me to read; probably because we were so much alike. But I was hoping that my silliness with my brother would get my dad to smile.

And it did. He loved to watch Neal and I interact together but I knew that there was a small part of him that wished that we were closer in age. "Da-e sad?" Neal said as he pulled his cheek from mine.

"Daddy looks sad, doesn't he? But there's no reason for daddy to be sad." I said the words to my little brother in a voice that I reserved for Neal, you know the kind of voice that is soft but chipper enough to grab a little kid's attention, however the words were clearly meant for my father. Then I turned to him with a more serious look, "is there?"

He let out a small laugh. "No, of course not;" David flashed me his charming grin. "How could I possibly be sad when I have the two best things that I have ever done standing in front of me spending the whole day with dear old dad?"

"Dear old dad?" I repeated with a raised eyebrow. "Seriously?" That line couldn't have been any cheesier if it had been topped with aged cheddar. Which meant one thing; he really didn't want me to know just how much his meeting Mr. and Mrs. Swan was bothering him.

He reached up to push a strand of my hair behind my ear then rubbed his hand up and down my shoulder a couple of times. He then threw a head bob in Henry's direction, "looks like the tailor is done with his measurements."

I turned to see that Henry was stepping down from the measuring stool. I tossed a quick glance back to David and he gave me a smile. I really wanted to have this conversation with my father but it really wasn't the place to have such a serious discussion. Especially with Henry nearby, no, this needed to be him and me, so I decided to wait until later. When I knew that I could corner him, one on one.

"Everything all set?" I asked my son as he put his shoes back onto his feet. He nodded; I grabbed the piece of paper that he was holding between his lips while he tied his shoes. "You couldn't have handed this to me before you put on your shoes?" I asked him. His only response was a shrug of his shoulders; typical teenager. I looked at the paper, knowing that it was the call ticket for his suit for his final fitting. I just shook my head and slipped the paper it into my pocket.

"You better remember to pull that out of your pocket when we get home," my father said as he came up behind me. "You don't want it to go through the washer when your mother does the laundry."

"Don't worry gramps, it won't." We both gave my son a questioning look urging him to elaborate, "Grams always checks Mom's pockets because most of the time she finds money."

"Aw, so that's why we always go out to Granny's for dinner on laundry day," he said in sly but knowing voice. I scrunched my face and gave my father a quick, but playful, back hand to the chest.

"Ma, no hit…" my little brother corrected me. Both Henry and David laughed at Neal's seriousness in correcting me.

"Yes, Emma…no hitting, especially you're father." He pinched my chin between his thumb and index finger and gave it a little shake. I knew that it was for Neal's sake to make him think that Dad was actually disciplining me.

I just shook my head and placed the toddler back into my father's arms so that I could pay for Henry's suit. I gave my father a pointed look, "just so you know…you're buying lunch."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, princess." I smirked at the use of the pet name since I knew that he used it just to get a reaction from me, although technically speaking it was my true royal title. And though I would never admit to it aloud, the little 8 year old girl inside of me actually kind of like it; that little girl always was and always would be Daddy's little princess.

The day had turned out to be a gorgeous day, the sun was out and it was abnormally warm for mid April. But I wasn't complaining, especially when Henry suggested going to the park after lunch. As we strolled down the sidewalk of the park together as a family, Henry was quick to grab Neal and take him to the slides. That was my opportunity to have my little chat with my father. I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the bench where we had an excellent view of Neal and Henry playing.

"Henry is so good with Neal," my father observed while we sat down. I knew that he was going to try to avoid talking about the Swans. So I jumped right in.

"Nice try, Dad." He gave me a look that tried to make him think that he was unsure of what I was talking about, but when I glared at him with a furrowed brow, he let out a defeated sigh and looked to the ground. He started to pick at his fingers, the same what that I do when I'm anxious. I reached over and took one of his hands into my own. "Dad, talk to me." I pleaded. "Please."

He stayed silent for a long beat. He looked around. Actually he looked anywhere but at me. I could see that he was fighting a battle within himself. So I hauled out the big guns; I scooted a little closer to him and lifted his arm behind my head forcing him to rest it on my shoulders. When I felt him put a little tension on that hold and pull me a little closer, I knew that I broke him. "You called him Daddy," was all that he said.

I closed my eyes; I knew that our run in the Mr. and Mrs. Swan was bothering him. But I didn't realize to what extent. I had never told my parents what I had ever called any of my foster parents. But he knew the story with the Swans. He knew that they were my first family, that they were the parents that taught me how to walk and how to talk, and how to call parental figures Mommy and Daddy. They were going to adopt me; they were the parents that I was supposed to have in the absences of David and Mary Margaret. They were the people who received the love of their little girl. They received the wet kisses like the ones that Neal was always giving, they received the goodnight mommy and goodnight daddy hugs and bedtime tucks. And as they received these little things from Neal they were constantly reminded that they missed it with me, and to have met the people who did receive it from me just cemented the hurt that was in my father's heart.

I didn't know what to say to him. What he was feeling was a very real pain. It was a pain that I knew; I felt the same way with Henry and Regina. But my situation with Regina was very different than the situation with my father and Mr. Swan. Regina was able to take that hurt away from me by giving me the memories of raising Henry. I knew that the memories were fake but they were there regardless, and they felt so very real. So, I slipped my arms around his torso and laid my head on his shoulder hugging him tight.

"I'm Daddy," I heard him whisper.

I finally just decided to speak from my heart rather than trying to think of what I could say to make him feel better. "You know, during my time in foster care, I called a lot of people Dad, because I was forced to call them that. Every once in a while a foster parent would tell me to call them by their first name because Mom and Dad were titles that were earned. But those people were the exception not the norm. When I was with the Swans, I didn't know any better. Actually I don't think that I even realized that they were not my real parents until they sent me back. That just isn't the kind of thing that 3 year old puts together until it happens. But when I look back to all of the homes that I lived in and all of the foster parents that I had, there is only one person who has ever earned the title of Dad. And right now I'm sitting on a park bench right next to that person watching my son play with on the playground with my little brother." I smiled when I felt his hold on me get a little tighter as I continued.

"Ever since you came into my life, you have been there to pick me up when I fall, you have been there to give me hope when I was sure that there was none, and you have supported me with every decision that I have ever had to make. You are the only person on this earth who I will ever call dad again." I lifted my head and used my fingers to direct his gaze directly at me. "You are my father. My Dad…the only Dad that I ever want." He smiled as he finally let the tear roll down his cheek. "You are Daddy to Neal…and me." I finished.

"Thank you, baby," he finally squeaked out.

"I know that I'm not good at showing the physical affection, but I'm trying and I am getting better. But you have to know that I do love you and mom. You guys are a strength that I thought that I didn't need. But I was wrong. I may be thirty years old with a son of my own, but I still need my mom and dad. And that's you." I laid my head back onto his shoulder and I felt him place a gentle kiss on the top of my head. "And did I mention that I loved it when you spoil me?" I added in a lighthearted tone. I felt his body rise with a small laughter.

"How could I not spoil you? You had me wrapped around your finger the minute you were born."

We sat there for a long minute; I just let him hold me. I had to admit that I felt a safety like no other when he held me in his strong arms. He was the man who would do anything for me with no questions asked. He was the man who would make laugh when I was sad and hold me tight when I cried. He was the man who would support me no matter what and love me unconditionally. David Nolan is my Dad. I lifted my head and looked up to him once more, "do you want to hear it?" I asked. I could tell that he wanted to be strong and not admit it, but he ever so slightly nodded his head.

As an adult, I would probably never say it, but he needed this one and it was probably the one thing that I could give him that I never had, the one thing that he has wanted to hear from me for the past 30 years. Who was I to deny him something that would make him feel so good, and chase away just a small part of the jealousy he was holding in his heart for Mr. Swan. I smiled at him then gave him a quick kiss on his cheek, "I love you, Daddy."

In that moment he wore the biggest charming grin that I have ever seen on his face. And I was happy to oblige. "I love you, princess." He held me a little tighter and repeated his sentiment, "I love you."


	3. Chapter 3 - Life's Little Moments

**Guest asked for a prompt revolving David asking Emma and Neal what they were doing? And this is what came out. I do have to say that although you asked for the middle name of Ruth to be used, I tried but I just couldn't do it. I had it in there, but I took it out. I'm sorry, but I struggled with it for some reason giving Emma the middle name bothers me. I don't know if it's because the character does not have a middle name in canon, (I even looked it up to be sure) or maybe it is because I really dislike the name Ruth. But I don't like it and I am not going to post something that I am completely unhappy with. But any way , the line is in there, just not the middle name. Enjoy. And as always, let me know what you think and if you have something you would like me to write a scene around, let me know that too.**

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Life's Little Moments

I was lying in the middle of my bed on my side somewhere between full on sleep and being somewhat aware of what was going on around me. I had worked the late shift last night and it was a long evening, awake was not something that I wanted to be at moment. I had heard my bedroom door creak open but I didn't hear any footsteps, when I felt my mattress dip down slightly, I knew for a fact that I had company. Someone had crawled on to my bed with me. I didn't speak or open my eyes; I thought that maybe if I pretended to be fully asleep, he would go away. No such luck. I opened one eye when I felt the little chubby hand touch my cheek and ever so slightly shake my head.

"Neal," I groaned in my little brother's direction, "what are you doing in here?" Neal was my adorable little brother who was just about three years old and getting into everything. Although I had memories of Henry being in his terrible two's I had never actually lived through those years and I was now getting that firsthand experience. I had quickly learned that the terrible two's transgressed into the horrible three's. It had a way of making me grateful that I only had memories of those years with Henry.

I could only assume that since he was in my room this early in the morning he had crawled out of his crib without my parents knowing. He had learned that little escape trick recently. I listened for a beat just to see if I heard movement downstairs. There was a small possibility that my one of my parents had awoken with him and he snuck up the stairs when said parent wasn't looking. I sighed when the sounds of a completely silent apartment struck my ears, telling me that mom and dad were still asleep.

"Memma, get up…" he had taken calling me Memma when he wanted to say my full name, I guess it was because he had a hard time saying Emma when he was first learning to talk (because now, he was actually very articulate for a toddler) and it always came out Memma. The worst was the first time that he had said it in front of my mother. She completely overreacted by thinking that he was calling me Momma. I just laid low for few days offering to take all of the shifts at the station and to let my Dad calm her down, the way I saw it was that 'over emotional mommy' was his demon to deal with not mine. But after that most times Neal just called me Ma; his shortened version of Emma.

"Maaaaa….get uuuuuuuuuppp!" this time he removed his hand from my face and placed it on my shoulder. It was then that I realized that he had been awake for while and had already been into something.

"Ew…Neal…what is sticky all over your hands?" Which were now stuck to my hair because he didn't bother to push my hair out of the way before he put his sticky paw on my shoulder. Of course, he was a toddler, they didn't think about things like not getting sticky hands in your big sister's hair.

"Breakfast!" he answered in a voice that was way too proud for my liking.

I sat up to untangle his hand from my hair, "what do you mean by breakfast?" I asked the question but I was honestly afraid of the answer.

"I make breakfast."

"Oh, no…" I didn't want to think about what he had actually done downstairs in the kitchen by himself. Henry was at Regina's, so I didn't have him to rely on as backup. I pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and my index finger. I was trying to so hard to summon the courage to go downstairs to assess the damage. "And what did you make for breakfast?" I don't know why I asked, a glutton for punishment, I guess. Because when I finally took the time to actually look at him I could have guessed what was on the menu. He had flour all through his hair, with eggs and syrup all over his hands. The image in my head of the mess that awaited downstairs was not improving.

"I made toast, eggs, cereal, orange juice and the black stuff." I was trying so hard not to shatter his little proud moment. But my mind was quickly trying to devise an escape plan for myself. Maybe if I crawled out the fire escape and made it look like I was at the station all night, I could just be the laughing bystander.

I squinted my eyes and cocked my head to the side, "The black stuff?" I questioned when what he said finally sunk into my head.

"Yeah, the black stuff that you, mommy, and daddy drink in the morning. The stuff that you tell Daddy he puts too much sugar in," he explained.

"Oh, coffee." That's when it hit me. I was suddenly wide awake "COFFEE? How the hell did you make coffee?" Not only was he not allowed to touch the coffee pot, stove, or anything else in the kitchen he was too small to even reach it without a chair. "Oh no," my eyes went wide "Neal, how did you cook breakfast?"

"Memma, Mommy says I'm too small to cook," he shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

"I know. That's what scares me," I quickly hopped out of bed and pulled the toddler into my arms. "Come on, Neal. Let's get you cleaned up, kid."

I carried my little brother down the stairs. As much as I tried to divert my eyes from the kitchen, curiosity got the better of me and pulled my eyes directly to the mess. I didn't even make it as far as the bathroom to clean him up, I walked around the island to find the biggest mess, I have ever seen. "Holy hell, Neal!"

I looked around the kitchen, instantly wishing that I had stayed at the station all night. I couldn't believe the mess. Next to the kitchen counter was a chair that he had dragged over from the table, with two little feet outlined on the seat in the same mess combination that covered the little boy. There as a cast iron skillet, that my mother always left out, sitting on an unlit burner full of cracked eggs and egg shells. A bowl sat on the counter filled with some kind paste that I deduced was made from flour and milk since those same two ingredients also covered the counter around the bowl. Four cereal bowls also sat on the counter among the mess filled to the top with froot loops and milk. Each bowl had a spoon tuck into it. Four plates sat on the island each with two slices of bread covered in what was a full bottle of syrup. Four glasses of orange filled to the brim were placed on the table along with all of the needed silverware. And finally the coffee, three place settings had a mug filled with water with a generous helping of coffee grounds spooned messily into each mug.

I moved to set Neal down on the chair that he had pulled into the kitchen, but moving wasn't as easy as it should have been since my feet were stuck to the floor. "Oh my god," I whispered to myself with an exasperated sigh. I looked down to see that whatever syrup didn't make it on the bread did, in fact, make it to the floor.

"Can you cook the eggs?" Neal asked me as he pointed to the skillet. I gave him an annoyed glare, the kind of glare that can only come from a big sister who is thoroughly pissed at her little brother for pulling her into this mess, for lack of a better term.

"Neal, what on earth made you decided to make breakfast this morning?" I probed while a rooted around for a spoon to dig out the egg shell pieces. If I could get out all of the egg shells, then at least the eggs could actually be cooked an eaten.

"Daddy's birthday," he answered without missing a beat.

"Oh…" At this point I was even more ecstatic with the fact that I was his sister and not his parent. I don't think that I would have been able to discipline him if he was my kid trying to make breakfast for my birthday.

"Emma Swan and Neal Nolan, what do you two think you're doing?"

"Shit," I jumped when I heard my father's voice behind me. I spun around as quickly as I could with my feet stuck to the floor. I shook my spoon in his direction. "Before you say another word, I was just as surprised by this as you."

"Happy Birthday, Daddy," My little brother yelled to him reaching his little arms in the air indicating for my father to pick him up.

"If I were you, I wouldn't come any closer," I warned him as I pointed the spoon to the floor.

"What did you two do?" he asked while he heeded my warning by staying on the other side of the island.

"Us TWO, didn't DO anything. You're daughter was sound asleep in her bed when she was awoken by sticky little three year old hands stuck to her face and hair. Then your daughter came downstairs to clean up your son and found this mess. And at the moment, your daughter is trying to salvage the eggs that your son tried to make. And did you honestly think that I would help him make this kind of a mess?" I think that I had made it abundantly clear that I was as innocent in this little plan.

"Happy birthday, Daddy," Neal yelled again, this time getting a response from my father.

"Thank you little buddy, did you do all of this?" he ask. He apparently had forgotten that I told him not to come any closer when my dad moved toward Neal to pick him up from the chair that he was standing on. My father stopped moving and picked up one foot twisting it to see the sticky syrup that was now all over the bottom of his feet.

"Did you think that I was lying when I said don't come any closer?" He ignored my question and instead turned to Neal waiting for my little brother to answer his question.

"Me and Memma, made you breakfast…"

"Oooooh, no….Me and Memma did not make breakfast," I quickly corrected. "Don't drag me into this you little squirt; Neal made breakfast, I'm just saving it. Well saving the eggs…they might be a little crunchy…you'll just have to get over it…its extra calcium."

"I'm sure they will be fine, sweetheart." He said as he put his free arm around me and pulled in for a side hug and kiss to the head. "Thank you."

I smiled up at him, "Happy Birthday, Dad. Sorry that you had to wake up to this mess."

"Don't be, honey." He said as he looked around the kitchen again with a defeated look on his face. But it was a look that quickly changed, "on second thought, I have a better idea." He took the spoon from my hand and tossed it into the sink. "While I clean up your brother, how about you give this room a flick of your wrist to clean it up and then we'll all go to Granny's for a birthday breakfast. What do you say?"

I raised my eyebrows, "you want me to use magic to clean up this mess?"

He gave me a wink and nodded, "when you're finished, wake your mother and tell her the plan, ok?"

"You know, magic always comes with a price?" I warned him.

"And which price would you rather pay…the price of using magic or the price of you're mother's wrath when she see this mess?" he retorted.

At first response, I was going to agree with him, but then "Hey wait a minute, why do I have to deal with her wrath? I didn't do this" I pointed around to the various spots of the kitchen that could no longer be seen.

"We all live here Emma, and you know as well as I do that if she sees this, we will all have to face her wrath."

"Good point," I said as I started to flick things clean. It didn't take me long; I had everything cleaned up in a matter of minutes, thanks to my magic. The floor was the hardest part since it was warehouse wood and the syrup was already soaking in, but I managed to get it cleaned up too, it just took a bucket of hot water and mop instead of magic. I did as my father asked and woke my mother, although she was already awake and fully aware of everything that was going on in the kitchen. She had decided that she was going to stay in bed and let Dad handle the Neal situation.

A short amount of time later we all enter Granny's for breakfast. My father held the door open as my mother entered in front of me holding Neal. I felt my father put his hand on the small of my back as he stepped into the restaurant behind me. Such a small gesture made me feel so loved and part of a family. It was those little things that I appreciated now because I never had them growing up. As we made our way to our regular booth, my father quickly grabbed a booster seat for Neal. "Sit with Memma," he directed when my father put the booster seat down on the booth bench.

I helped my little brother settle into his booster seat then I slid in next to him. Ruby quickly brought us menus, that we probably didn't need, and crayons and paper for Neal to keep him occupied.

"Neal, honey, what do you want for breakfast?" my mother asked him. He didn't look up from the picture, of well nothing, that he was drawing. Really he was just scribbling all over the paper. I picked up a crayon and reached over to draw a puppy on his paper in the upper corner. As he colored his little scribbled lines, I colored the puppy dog that I drew.

"What Ma has," he answered her.

I looked up to my mother and smiled, "a kid after my own heart…"

"Chocolate chip pancakes," my father and I said together. It warmed my heart to see how well my parents really knew me.

As I sat there and colored with Neal, I thought about the fact that this breakfast would be perfect if Henry were with us. But this was his weekend to be at Regina's. I was so engrossed in my thoughts of Henry whiled I was coloring with my little brother that I didn't notice that Ruby had come by to take our orders. I didn't look up until I heard my father give Ruby the order, "the kids will have chocolate chip pancakes, chocolate milk for Neal and Hot Chocolate with cinnamon for Emma."

I saw the looks of love that my parents were giving both Neal and myself; the look that only a parent has for their children. I smiled at them, the two people who were so in love, my father had his arm wrapped around my mother's shoulders and her head was resting on his. I went back to coloring with Neal as we waited.

"Charming, those are our babies, sitting there," I heard my mother whisper. I pretended like I didn't hear their conversation. Instead at the bottom of the paper that Neal and I were coloring on, I wrote the words "Happy Birthday, Dad! Love Emma and Neal." I even guided Neal's little hand so that it looked like he wrote his own name.

I slid the paper across the table to my father, "There...Your first crayon drawing from the both of us."

Sure it was cutesy, and maybe a little childish, but my brother was a child. And it was something that I could give him for his birthday that no other two people in this world could. He once told me that life was made up of moments, so I took the opportunity to give him a good moment.


	4. Chapter 4 - Don't Blink

**How about some Charming Family Father-Daughter fluff to start the weekend. You all can thank a co-worker of mine for this one, she was playing the song that is mentioned in the office the other day and this is what came to my mind. Enjoy. Oh...and I wrote it from a different perspective from my usual, so please don't be too upset with grammar errors that you may find. I can't believe how many times I caught myself reverting to the 1st person. For some reason, 1st person is so much easier for me to write, but I did want to make this one a little different. Anyway enough rambling...let me know what you think! Happy Weekend!**

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Chapter 4 - Don't Blink

"Hey," Emma jumped when she heard her father's voice behind her. She was sitting at the kitchen island, slowly munching on a bowl of Froot Loops. The radio was playing in the background but her attention was actually on an article that she was reading on her smart phone. She didn't hear him come up behind her. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said as he dropped a small kiss on the side of her head as he passed going toward the kitchen to get himself a bowl for cereal.

She flashed him a quick smile, "morning, Dad." That was all that she had said as she went right back to reading the article. As she drew closer to the end of a paragraph, she caught a sight of David out of the corner of her eye. He was staring at her, ever so slowly lifting a spoon of cereal to his mouth, but never taking his eyes off of her. "What?"

"Huh?" was his witty reply as he quickly tried to look away.

"Why are you staring at me? Never seen a grown woman eat a bowl of cereal before? I do it every day, Dad." He smiled at her use of the word dad. Oh how he loved this grown woman who was sitting before him. "Are you feeling ok?" she asked furrowing her brow in concern.

"What?" he shook his head like he pulling himself out of a daydream. "Yeah, I'm fine. Since when do you listen to country music?" he asked as he gestured toward the radio with an abrupt change of subject.

"I don't. Mom had it on before she left, I just didn't turn it off yet," she answered around a mouth full of the sugary cereal.

"Where is your mother?" He briefly looked around in a vain attempt to see her anywhere, but quickly pulled his eyes back to his daughter.

"She took Neal and Henry to Regina's for the day and then she was going into the school to pack up her classroom for the summer. Said she'd be home around 4." Emma replied still not taking her eyes off of her phone.

"Regina is watching Neal?" His voice was full of astonishment. "All day?"

Emma let go of a laugh in reaction to her father's question. "Actually no," she finally answered, "Henry is watching Neal, Regina is just offering adult sideline supervision."

"Ah, that makes more sense," David said shoving another spoon of cereal in his mouth.

The two sat there in relative silence again, with the radio still playing. Emma had finished her breakfast but was still fiddling with her phone, when she caught David staring again. "Are you sure that everything is ok?"

This time, when she looked up at him, he didn't look away or make any 'yeah I'm fine' declarations. His eyes were slightly pink and he looked as if he was holding back tears. "I blinked," was his final answer to her question.

"What?" Again a look of concern crossed her face.

He pointed to the radio. She directed her gaze at the radio and for the first time all morning she paid attention to the song that was playing, _Don't Blink_ by Kenny Chesney. She dropped her gaze to the floor. While she let the lyrics to the song sink into her head.

"Technically you slept," she said trying to lighten the mood a little. She cracked a small sympathetic smirk when she looked back to him; he still had his watery gaze fixed on her; her remark had no affect on his emotions. "Dad?"

He finally smiled, but said nothing. Instead he grabbed her hand and pulled her to middle of the living room. He turned to face her; he placed her left hand on his shoulder as he wrapped his right around her waist. His left hand took her right and lifted it to the height of her shoulder. He began to lead her around the room in a tight box step. After a couple of turns, he began to sing the lyrics along with the radio, as he stared lovingly at her face; drinking in all of her features that she inherited from her mother and himself.

Emma tried so hard to hold the tears in, but the attempt was futile. She felt the hot salty liquid slide down her cheek. She let her father lead her around the room, the feeling was surreal. She was in her family's living room dancing with her father. She was never much of a dancer, but her father moved her around the room with such fluidity. She couldn't stop the wide smile that formed on her face. She was dancing with her father, but it was more than just a dance. She loved this man with everything that she had, she trusted him; he would never let her fall; he would do absolutely anything for her; he was her dad. If someone had told her three years ago that she would have this life now, her parents, a son, a pirate boyfriend, and friends, she probably would have punched them in the face.

"Don't blink," he sang as he twirled her around, "you just might miss your babies growing, like mine did…turning into moms and dads" The sound of his singing voice was magical and did nothing to help her keep her tears at bay. "Trust me friend, a hundred years goes faster than you think…so don't blink." He twirled her around again as the song came to an end pulling her close to him again. She reached her arms around his torso and hugged him tight. He returned the hold moving his left hand up to cradle the back of her head against his body.

"I love you so much, Emma." He held onto her for a moment longer before he pulled back keeping her at arm's length. His hands rested on the sides of her shoulders, she wasn't even trying to stop the tears that were freely flowing down her face. He reached up and wiped the water away with the pads of his thumbs then pulled her back tightly to his chest. This was his little girl, all grown up but his little girl just the same. He just continued to hold her close as she silently cried into his chest. She was finally letting her walls crumble completely. Everything that she had wished for when she was a child in the foster system had finally come to fruition and she was never going to let it go.

He held her until her breathing evened out, every once in a while placing a tender kiss on her head. When she finally pulled back he smiled at her, "come on," he said. He let her go and quickly went to grab her boots.

"Right…work…"she said with disappointment in her voice as she took her boots from him. She sat down on one of the steps to slip her boots on her feet.

"Not today," he announced. He had a better idea of how to spend the day with his only daughter and it didn't include work. "The phones are on forward, in the case of an emergency."

"Sooooo…what are we doing?" She asked. The look that was on his face was every bit of mischievous.

"You'll see." He flashed at her a charming grin and gave her a wink. She rolled her eyes and shook her head in mock annoyance, but secretly she loved it. He was up to something. "Go ahead downstairs, I have to make one quick phone call and I'll be right down."

She gave him a sideways glance, but did as she was told. It was only minutes later that he was down the stairs and right by her side. "Ready?" he asked as he put his arm out for her to link with his.

"We're walking?" she questioned.

"It's a beautiful day…of course we're walking." She shrugged her shoulders accepting his explanation and linked her left arm around her father's right. Together they walked side by side to the stables engaging in small chit chat about Henry and his plans for the summer.

"So, you know that I have never ridden a horse before, right?" She had always wanted to learn, but the opportunity never really presented itself. She watched as her father had led two horses out of the stables on leader ropes. They were already saddled and ready for a trail ride, that must have been the call that he made; asking the stable hand to have the horses ready.

"It's simple, we're not going to do a hard ride." He pulled her over to the horse that was going to be hers for the day. "Ok, put your left foot in the stirrup and your left hand on the horn of the saddle. In one motion, give a quick jump with your other foot and use the horn to pull yourself up. You can grab the back of the saddle too with your other hand if you need."

She did as she was instructed. The first time, she didn't have enough momentum to get high enough to swing her other leg over the horses back, but the second time, she did it pretty easily. She watched her father as he adjusted the stirrups to fit her leg length. The whole time he was giving her instructions. "Hold the reigns with the left hand and the horn with your right. If you want to turn the horse left, move the reigns so that it is touch the right side of the horses neck, and do the opposite to turn the other way. Pull back on the reigns to get the horse to stop. Got it?" she nodded her head to her father's instructions.

"Isn't there a little more that I need to know?" she asked when he mounted his own horse.

"Typically, yes. And I'll tell you as you go. You'll be fine; this horse is a follower, which means that he will just follow whatever my horse does. Okay?"

She gave him a look of skepticism, but she trusted him. She knew that he wouldn't do anything that would put her in harm's way, "If you say so…"

She watched her father give his horse a gentle kick to the side as he clicked his tongue. His horse started to walk forward and sure enough, hers started to move right behind him. Each move that her father's horse made hers mimicked. He took her on a trail that wound through the woods along the creek. It was a beautiful morning in the late spring. The birds were singing and the sounds of the water were calming.

"So, what do you think of your first horseback riding lesson?" she heard father ask breaking the silence that was between them.

"This is actually pretty fun, terrifying at first. But fun. Of course, it helps when you have a good teacher." She was hoping that he would read the comment for thank you that it actually was; sometimes she still had a hard time opening up to him.

"Shh.." He stopped abruptly and put a finger up to his lips. Emma's horse came to stop right next to his. When he had her attention, he pointed toward the brush. At first she didn't see what he was looking at; he must have realized this from the expression on her face because he reached up and moved her head into the proper direction. "Be very quiet," he whispered so low that she barely heard him. But as soon as she saw it, she understood why. Lying just under a thick berry bush was female deer that had just given birth to a fawn. The spots on the baby deer's back were such a bright white. As the mother watched, the baby deer was attempting to stand up on its own. It was an amazing sight to watch this beautiful event happen in nature. The little deer wobbled and fell down a lot but on the sixth or seventh try it finally made it up on all fours.

She was mesmerized at the mother deer and how she nudged her baby with her nose with encouragement. But then the mother deer stepped over the fawn and slowly walked down the path. The little deer, not wanting to be left behind, wobbled behind its mother learning more about walking with each step. Emma looked over to her father; he had just done the same for her with the horse. He gave words of encouragement then just started going, expecting her to follow and she did, and with each step she learned a little more about riding horseback.

If her father noticed her staring at him, he didn't say anything about it. He gave her a quick smile then threw his head to the side, a silent way of saying 'let's go.' When his horse started to walk, Emma's followed. After about ten minutes more of riding, David came to a stop near the creek. After dismounting his horse, he helped Emma down from hers. He gave her a quick lesson on how to lead the horse to the creek for them to get a little bit of water.

"Is this what it would have been like?" Emma asked while she held the reigns as the horse drank from the wide creek. She didn't need to explain any further, Charming knew exactly what she was asking.

"Yeah," he answered with a far off gaze in his eyes. "You and I would have gone out every day for a trail ride through the woods. Maybe some fishing…"

She smiled at him, "Is that what the fishing equipment is for, over there?" She point to pile of rods and tackle boxes that were lying on the creek shore. "Is that the call that you had to make?"

He nodded. "I decided that today was going to be father/daughter day. And I wanted to teach you some of the things that I would have if…" He trailed off, not wanting to say the full sentiment. It was hard enough to think about her growing up without him, it was even worse to say it out loud. "Have you ever been fishing before?"

She shook her head. "Nobody ever cared enough to take me, I was supposed to go camping one time with a foster family, but that was when Lilly showed up and stole the family's vacation money. That camping trip turned into a one way ticket back to a group home. I was so excited, but I never got to go."

She didn't even try to hide the sadness that was in her voice. She had let her walls come down, and this was the first time that she was actually forthcoming with a story from her past.

"Well let's change that, shall we?" She let a bright smile come to her face at her father's words.

"Really?" He nodded as he led the horses to the tree line. He tied the reigns off on a tree low enough that they horses could reach their heads down to the grass while they fished. He had to laugh when he turned around and saw Emma going through the tackle trying to get her pole ready.

"Here, let me help," he reached his hand out to her. Pulling a hook from the tackle box he showed her how to tie it on, and then he baited the hook for her. "Come on," he said pulling her to the edge of the water by the hand. "You flip this bar over and hold the line in place with your index finger." Emma held the pole in her hands and he stood behind her with his arms wrapped around her body to meet hers on the pole. As he said the instructions he also guided her movements. "Now lift the tip of the pole up and over your head; then flick it toward the water, upstream. Let go of the line as you flick it. Okay?" Again he guided her movements with the pole.

"Is that right?" she asked with excitement of a child looking for praise from her father.

"Perfect. Now turn the reel just enough to click the bar back over and let it your bait float downstream. When it passes you and there is tension on the line, reel it and try again, okay?"

She nodded doing exactly what her father had instructed her to do. Again and again, she would reel her line in and cast it back out. He fiddled with his fishing rod a little to make it look like he was rigging his line to fish, but he was really just content watching his daughter do what he had just taught her.

In the moment that he had looked away from her, he heard her scream, "I got one…Dad what do I do?"

He jumped up with a huge smile on his face, "give a little tug on the line to set the hook." He watched as she gave the tug, "now reel it in…"

As she reeled in the fish, he stepped into the water just enough to reach the fish with the fishing net. "I did it…" Emma squealed while David untangled the fish from the net. "What kind is it?"

"Looks like a Brook Trout, want to keep it?"

"No…" she answered, "but show me how to take it off of the hook." David smiled as he showed her how to hold the fish and take it off of the hook. Smiling a proud smile at him once she had the fish released, she eased down to the side of the creek and returned the fish to the water.

The father and daughter spent the rest of the afternoon fishing, and between the two of them caught five more fish. David took the time to tell Emma stories of growing up in the enchanted forest and Emma reciprocated by telling David some of the better stories that she had growing up, such as times when she had foster siblings whom she would spend summers with swimming and riding bikes. They weren't great stories, but they weren't bad stories either.

They had packed up in enough time to ride the horses back to the stables and walk home to the loft to help Snow prepare dinner for the family. "Dad?" Emma started during their walk back to the loft from the stables.

"Yes…"

"I had fun today, thank you." He put his arm around her shoulders and she didn't flinch at the touch. "Can we have more days like this?" she almost sounded like a child in and adult body.

"Yeah," he answered, "I think that can be arranged."

She smiled at him, her dad. "Now, let's help mom with dinner, so we can go get some ice cream later."


	5. Chapter 5 - Return of the Swans

**Happy Friday, Everyone! I was finally able to get this written and I wanted to get it posted before the weekend. Guest asked for more interaction with the Swans and this is what came out onto the paper. I hope that you like it. I had a little fun with it and took a few liberties. ChelsieGirl, I am still working on your request. I just didn't want you to think that I forgot about you. As always, tell me what you think! Constructive criticism and suggestions are always welcome.**

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"Mom, have you seen my keys?" I yelled to my mother who was putting clothes away in her bedroom closet. She was an annoying morning person who always got up early to do household chores before she had to go to school. I on the other hand, enjoyed my sleep. But it seemed that I had enjoyed it a little too much this morning; now I had been rushing around all morning. And, of course, it was one of those days where anything that could go wrong, did go wrong. Now I couldn't find my keys. I was running late and I still had to pick up Henry and take him to school. It was times like this that I was so grateful that my only other coworker was my Dad. "Mom?" I called again. When did I turn back into a teenager dependent on my mother to have my life organized?

"Check your brother…" she finally answered back.

"What?" I replied with a hint of sarcasm. "Why would my brother have my keys?" It was a logical question, he's three, he can't drive.

"Because, the first thing you do when you walk through that door is throw your keys down on the coffee table where he can get them. Then you take off your coat and throw it on the arm of the couch or the back of the chair; also where he can get to it." By this time she had exited her bedroom and was approaching with her arms crossed, almost daring me to object to her observation, but effectively ending the yelling across the apartment.

"Life was so much easier when I was an only child," I mumbled to myself as walked over to my brother who was sitting in the middle of floor playing with his blocks. I stuck my hands under his arms and I lifted him to his feet. I noticed a little bulge in his chest pocket. I reached my hand into the pocket on the front of the overalls that he was wearing and sure enough I pulled out my keys along with my tube of Chap Stick. I held the Chap Stick up in front of his face, "that was in my jacket pocket, you little turd." When he reached for it, I quickly whisked it away from him. "Stay out of my stuff."

"Did you learn a lesson?" I heard my mother ask from the kitchen where she was putting together a lunch for herself.

"Yeah…that I need to frisk my brother on a daily basis," I slid on my red leather jacket and went for my phone, which was not on the end table where I left it. "Neal!" I shouted. I watched my little brother laugh and run to the kitchen to hide behind my mother with my phone in his tiny hands. I put my hands on my hips and let go of an exasperated sigh. I was thankful when my mother reached down to pull my phone from the little terror's hands.

"Here, honey," she said handing me the phone. "Try to have a good day, ok?" I nodded and took the phone.

"Thanks," I pushed the home button on my phone to check the time, "Shit, I'm late, and I still have to pick up Henry."

"Emma, I'll get Henry, just go to work so your Dad doesn't start making frantic phone calls looking for you." I shot her a grateful smile as I walked toward the door.

"Thanks, Mom," I called back to her as I opened the door to exit, "I'll see you later. Goodbye you little two legged terror," I called to my brother who was still hanging onto my mother's leg.

I didn't see the two people who were about to knock on the door that I had just opened. I nearly walked into them but I stopped abruptly when I heard the woman, "Mom?" and then the man, "Did you just call your son a two legged terror?"

My chin dropped. "What the he…? How did you…?" I stumbled over my words, not sure how to react to Mr. and Mrs. Swan standing at our doorstep. I quickly looked back to my mother, judging by her position in the kitchen; she couldn't see who was at the door. She had her neck craned trying desperately to see. I blinked a couple of times and my mouth was hanging open in shock. I was finally able to react and shoe them into the hallway. "Out…" I said as I waved my hands in a sweeping motion starting at my legs and thrusting toward the pair. On way through the door, I grabbed a hold of the knob and pulled the door shut quickly enough that I was still convinced that my mother did not know who was there. Not that she would know anyway, she never met my former foster parents, only my father had met them.

"Down the stairs," I demanded. I knew my mother well enough that she would put her ear to the door to try to listen to us. It's not that I was trying to hide anything. It was just that I wasn't ready for them to meet her. After their reaction to meeting my father and his reaction to them, this needed to be handled delicately and that wasn't going to happen with me already being late for work. "Hi Granny," I said to the older lady that we passed on the stairs. She responded with a quick hello as she made her way up the steps to babysit Neal for the day while my parents were both at work. But that also told me that my mother wouldn't be too far behind us.

"How did you two find me? Hell, how did you two even get here?" I asked. The last that I knew, outsiders could not penetrate the border of Storybrooke. Even residents couldn't re-enter the town after they crossed the border, not without the Snow Queen's scroll.

"After we ran into you in Boston, we talked, and we felt that we didn't leave things between us the way we would have liked," Mr. Swan tried to explain. It seemed to me that he was the mouth piece for the duo.

"You mean, you still don't believe that David is my father and you think that I'm in some kind of trouble making it the perfect opportunity to swoop in to save the day; essentially winning Emma back, regaining the daughter that you never should have let go," I could tell that assumption was close to par by the look on Mrs. Swan's face, so I had to throw the last dig in there, "Am I close? And no, I didn't call my son a terror; I called my brother a terror." I paused for a second to allow for a quick breath giving them very little time to counter. "You couldn't have called? You couldn't have said that you wanted to talk and for me to meet you in Boston?"

"Would you have come?" Mrs. Swan asked.

"No." I was being honest. "But you still could have asked."

Mrs. Swan remained silent but still had a bewildered look on her face, Mr. Swan ignored my statement and questions "We had a friend, retired from the FBI, do a trace on you to find you. We figured that you had to be close by, since you were in Boston. He said it was rather easy to find you. You're the sheriff?"

I did not answer his question; instead I looked at the time on my phone. My mother would be exiting the building to leave for school any second; I quickly sent a text to Henry to tell him that his grandmother would be coming for him instead of me. "Look," I finally turned my attention back to the Swans, "we can't talk here. Get in your car and follow me to the station. We can have a more private conversation there."

My goal was to at least get them into their car before my mother came down the stairs. "Emma?" Oh so close.

"Mary Margaret…" I responded. I can't begin to describe the look that I got in return. I was certainly going to hear about that later; "On your way out?" I didn't wait for her to answer. "These two lost something and they are trying to get it back, we're going to the station. Tell Henry that I love him and I'll pick him up after school. See ya." I made haste getting to my car. I pulled out quickly and was followed by the Swans. I watched my mother in the rearview mirror as she pulled out her phone. If I had to guess, she was texting my Dad. I knew that I handled that whole situation poorly. But I wasn't ready for her to go all 'snow white' on the Swans.

The drive to the station was short. But apparently, not short enough. "Emma," my father nearly yelled to me as I walked through the door, "would you like to explain to me why your mother is blowing up my phone?"

"Oh, good morning to you too, Dad," my tone was very sarcastic, but I watched his gaze as he picked up on the hand signal that I was giving him. I had my fist in front of my chest with my thumb sticking up. I jerked my thumb in the direction that was behind me indicating that I was not alone.

"Oh…" he said when our guests walked into the station following me. The way that he kept his mouth in an O shape was rather humorous and gave passage to his stunned look. "What…uh…how?"

"Don't know," I crossed the room to my father's desk. I picked up the apple that was sitting on top of the desk before I turned around and hoisted myself up to sit in its place. "Have a seat," I offered to the Swans as I tossed the green apple back and forth between my two hands and bobbing my head in toward the couch.

I was about to lift the apple to my mouth to take a bite when my father plucked it from my hands, "don't eat that…"

"What? Why?" I asked a little stunned and a bit hungry. In the madness of the morning, I never got a chance to eat breakfast.

"Regina is coming by to pick it up," he explained.

"Ooook…Why?" I asked slowly, drawing out the words. There couldn't have been a good reason for Regina making a trip to the sheriff station to pick up an apple.

He looked over to the Swans, who were sitting on the couch side by side watching our back and forth banter before he turned back to me, "You don't want to know." He said as matter of fact. "So, what brings you two to Storybrooke? Would you like some coffee?" David asked trying to get back to the situation at hand.

"Uh, no thank you." Mr. Swan replied. I watched him reach over and take his wife's hand into his own. It was almost as if he was looking for support in what he was about to say or do. "We didn't like the way that we left things with Emma, back in Boston. We wanted the chance to talk with her again." He swallowed after he finished his sentence. If I didn't know any better, I would have said that he was sincerely nervous to talk about me with my father.

"David, I'm here…" We all turned to see Regina entering the station. "No thanks to your daughter, who never showed up to pick up our son. She sent her mother instead." I rolled my eyes and moved my mouth in a very mocking way as she talked, however it was soon apparent that she was paying no attention to me, "who are you?" she asked the Swans in typical Regina fashion.

"Uh…we're…uh?" His train of thought seemed to have been completely derailed when Regina entered the room. It seemed a bit curious to me, especially since he couldn't stop staring at her.

"Regina," David quickly cut in, "This is Mr. and Mrs. Swan, I'm sorry I do not know your first names…"

"Darren and Jane," Mr. Swan answered as he rose up from the couch extending a hand.

"Right," David cut in again, "Darren and Jane, this is Regina Mills our town's mayor."

"It's a pleasure," Darren greeted stepping closer to Regina. He was looking her up and down, but then he looked over to me for a second before Regina caught his attention once more.

"Swan?" Regina had her eyes furrowed. She pointed from them to me and back to them, "As in…."

"Yes, Regina. They were my foster parents for the first 3 years of my life. They were the people who sent me back when they had their own kid." I winced a bit after I said it. That actually did not sound as bitter in my head. "Sorry," I said to them, "I didn't mean to sound so insensitive." I knew what the circumstances were and I was really out of line with my statement.

"Insensitive?" Regina questioned with a definite attitude. "You have no reason to apologize to those people. Why the hell are they even here after 27 years?"

"Regina, stop," my father stepped in front of her. She was beginning to advance toward the Swans in her typical intimidating way. Regina shot David a glare then looked at me before she backed down. "Come on, I'll walk you out," he handed her the apple, which we were going to discuss later, and then gently put his hand on her should to guide her from the building.

I watched them until I heard the voice behind me which caused me to turn my attention back to my foster parents, "it seems that you have quite the fan club around here. What did she mean by 'our son'?" Jane asked.

"You know, you guys really shouldn't be here; the whole thing is complicated." I know that is not what they wanted to hear and I could tell that they weren't going to leave easily. Maybe hearing them out was what I needed to do; let them appease some of their guilt. "Ok. You guys want to talk, we'll talk. You're obviously not going to be content until you get your answers. So I will answer what I can. And when I say were done, we're done." I raised my eyebrow at them waiting for a response. They sat in relative silence for a beat, but then nodded their heads in agreement. "So, let me give you a little update and you can start your questions from there, good?"

Again they nodded. "After I left your home, I was in and out of foster homes and group homes for the next 13 years, when I was 16 I bolted. I had enough of the system and I was determined to live my life my way. I bumbled across the country for the next two years and met this guy. At 18 I got pregnant and he set me up to take the fall for some watches that he stole. I did a year in prison where I had Henry. Knowing that I as only 18, with no job and no experience at anything I gave him up for adoption. He was adopted by Regina." They both let go of a realizing sigh as they now understood my relationship with Regina, well the sharing Henry part; I had no intentions of trying to explain that she was actually my step grandmother too. I heard my father come back in as I continued my story. He sat down beside me on the top of his desk and snaked his arm around my waist giving me the support that I needed to continue. "After prison, I was set up with a job in a bail bondsman's office, where they trained me. And it turned out that I was actually pretty good at finding people." I cut a look over to my father and gave him a little smile.

"It was a couple of years ago that Henry found me in Boston and needed my help with something. When I brought him back here, he convinced me to stay. Ultimately he helped find my parents and the rest of my family. I became the sheriff and I've been here ever since." I nervously clapped my hands together waiting for them to say something.

"Can we meet your mother?" Jane asked shyly. "We actually have something that we would like to give her."

"Actually, you already kind of met her. When we left the apartment, Mary Margaret?" I said, swinging the sentence in an upbeat making sound almost like a question.

"You're really her father?" Darren asked David.

"Would you like us to take a DNA test?" I quickly shot a look to my father that silently asked him to calm down. The tone in his voice even scared me. He was not taking kindly to Mr. Swan's continual questioning of my paternity. "Yes, I am really her father and her mother is really her mother."

"My parents really are older than they look, but they did have me when they were pretty young. They gave me up to give me my best chance. They had faith in the system. They had no idea that it would fail me and they were distraught, to say the least, at the life that I had." I decided to throw the 'they were young' part in to make the story a little more believable to what this world would consider to be real. "But we've moved past that, I have two wonderful parents and an awesome little brother." I turned to my father, "Who, by the way, stole my keys, my chap stick, and my phone this morning which is why I was late and why Mom had to get Henry."

After my little speech, Darren finally spoke up, "I'd be lying if I said that we didn't have some hope that we could get you to think of us as your parents again. We really thought that, David being your father was a ruse. But from what I have seen today, that certainly is not the case." He cast a sideways glance, as he tried to avoid looking directly at me before he continued. "We're sorry that we made the decision that we made all of those years ago, and if we could take it back we would. We tried." He paused for a moment as he looked over to his wife. "When we saw your two boys, we had all of these ideas of being grandparents to them, and that was clearly an overstep on our part. I guess at some point in time everyone has some unrealistic dreams."

"Only Henry is my son," I interrupted. Darren cocked his head and gave me a questioning look, "Neal is my little brother."

"Oh. I'm sorry," he apologized for his assumption.

"Emma, we are sorry for everything, is there any way that we could make it up to you?" Jane asked.

I scooted a little closer to my father before I answered her, "You can't make up for the past, we've tried. You just have to accept it and accept what you have in the present for all it's worth. You have no need to apologize, though." Again they both gave me inquisitive looks that begged for an explanation which I was all too happy to give, "had you not sent me back I would have grown up with you as parents and it never would have put me on the path to having Henry or finding my biological parents. Because of you, I have them, and I wouldn't trade that for world."

I looked over to my father, who was obviously trying to hold back tears, "this guy right here is my Dad. He is the only person that I will ever call Dad ever again. And Mary Margaret is my Mom; she is the only person who gets that title. But, I would be willing to call you guys, Darren and Jane, friends of the family." Again, I looked over to my dad. I was hoping that he felt as I did and would be willing to accept these two as family friends.

"Of course," David said to answer my silent question with a smile as he stood and offered a hand to Darren, who happily returned the friendly gesture.

"So, you said that you have something for my Mom?" I said changing the subject ever so slightly.

"Oh, Yes," Jane said as she reached for a bag that she had carried in with her. She pulled out what looked like a photo album and a DVD. "After we saw you in Boston, I went home and put this together. It is all of the pictures that we had of you and all of the videos compiled onto this DVD. We thought that you and your family would like to have it."

"Wow, thank you so much," I was so touched that she actually kept all of the photos and videos that they had of me. As I started to flip through the album, I couldn't help but to smile at how cute and happy I looked.

"You're mother is going to love this," I heard David say, "Thank you so much for sharing this with us. I can't tell you what it means to us to actually have something from her childhood. She was able to save so very little. Oh look at that one…" he pointed to a picture of me sitting in a little kiddy pool that was set up on the back porch of their home. "Oh and I love that one," he said pointing to another picture.

"You would…" the picture was of me sitting on the floor with my arms crossed. I had pigtails in my hair and huge scowl across my face. I was apparently unhappy about something.

I felt a light kiss on the top of my head. "It captures my little girl so perfectly," he said as he rubbed his hands quickly up and down the sides of my arms.

"Dad!" I yelled as I subconsciously crossed my arms the exact same way and apparently I was wearing the same scowl.

"See," He pointed out. I looked up to see the Swans chuckling.

"I can't remember what she was mad about, do you remember Darren?" He laughed and shook his head.

"It's probably because you put my hair in pigtails. No kid wants to wear pigtails!" I argued as I refused to end my pout. I looked around the room to see that I was the only one not laughing. But it was enough to break me when David put his arm around me and pulled me to his side. He leaned down and placed another tender kiss on my head. I couldn't help but to smile and lean into his side embrace.

"I have an idea," he said. "Why don't the two of you come over for dinner tonight? I'm sure that you have a ton of stories to go with these pictures that Emma's mother and I would love to hear. What do you say?"

I looked up, surprisingly hopeful that they would say yes. It was something that my parents needed that I couldn't give them. And maybe it would help the Swans get over their guilt of giving me up as well. I smiled when Darren and Jane accepted my father's invitation. I knew that it would be a hard night for me emotionally. Well it would be a hard night for everyone really, but hopefully it would bring a little bit of closure to a past situation that we could do nothing to change.

"Why don't I give you guys a tour of Storybrooke and Dad, you can talk to Mom about dinner?" He nodded his head. He knew what talking to Mom meant. He had to fill her in on all of the details, including the details that were changed ever so slightly to make their real lives a little less fairytaled. "Let's start with lunch at Granny's. Sound good? I'm starving, since someone wouldn't let me eat the apple. Which, by the way…"

"Later, Emma…" David said in his no nonsense Dad voice. I got the hint. "Be careful," yep I got that hint too; keep the magic and fairy tales away from the Swans.

I gave him a quick hug, "Bye Dad. Text me if you need me."

I spent the rest of the day showing the Swans around our little town. We visited the pawn shop, the cove, the pier, the hiking trails, and all of the other quaint intricacies of our spot in Maine. I had found out that their FBI agent friend was responsible for getting them in touch with Mr. Gold who was able to "somehow" bring them into town. I didn't want to question them too much, it would have definitely sent up some red flags. But Gold was definitely on my radar for when they left. We talked about my life and theirs. Ultimately, I think that they were finally comfortable with how happy I was with my life and how it had turned out.

It was a nice feeling to not resent them either. And I think that they really scored points with my father by giving us the photo album and the DVD. Although I would never let them be my parents or Henry's grandparents, I didn't mind letting them be friends and keeping in touch.


	6. Chapter 6 - The Dinner

**Hello everyone - I know that it has been a while, and quite frankly it took me that long to get this chapter written. I know that this story was to be a series of one shots, but it somehow turned into a multi chapter story. But It really has no set direction that it is going, as I think of things to add to it I do. So I am going to leave it marked as a completed story. Also, this chapter is more Snow centered than Charming centered. It is a long chapter, well longer than I usually write, but I had a lot that I had to get into this one. I doubt future chapters will be this long. It was something that needed to be addressed (in regards to this story.) I know that a couple of people have given me prompts to write, and I will get to those, this just happened to come out first. But I want to right your prompts to somewhat fit what I have written so far. So please be patient. So without further ado, please enjoy the next chapter of this story.**

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Chapter 6 - The Dinner

After giving the Swan's a tour of Storybrooke and spending the afternoon with them, my father insisted that I headed home early and that he would lock up the station. I tried to argue with him, because I could just picture whirlwind of my mother buzzing about making dinner for tonight and the last thing that I wanted was to be was in her way when her need for perfection was in overdrive. But I was met with a stern fatherly, "Go." I should have known that he was setting me up for a one on one with my mom.

As I ascended the stairs of our apartment building I followed delectable scents, of what I thought was chicken, through the door to the loft. When I entered I saw my mother feverishly chopping vegetables and throwing them in a bowl for what was going to be a garden salad. I continued to watch her as I slowly peeled off my jacket and ungraciously flung it on to the arm of the couch. The way she was going at the carrots combined with the look of utter disgust (or was it just plain pissed off) on her face was enough to warn me to approach with caution. A second warning was imposed when she didn't look up as I entered. No, she just pointed her chef knife in my direction and followed the action with orders. "Do not leave your jacket there. Honestly, I do not understand why you can fling it on the arm of the couch but you can't turn around and hang it on the hook." Yeah, this was going to be a fun evening.

"Sorry," I mumbled as I quickly pulled the jacket from its perch and hung it on the metal hook next to the door. As I did, I thought about my little brother, Neal. Leaving my coat down at his level was one of on the problems that I had with getting to work on time this morning. I looked around, but I didn't see the little two legged terror anywhere. "Where's Neal?" I needed to break the tension somehow. At the moment, he seemed like the best way to deflect her attention from me.

But, I guess that I was wrong because she didn't answer my question, instead she moved on to peeling and slicing cucumbers for the salad. I stood there for a second debating on whether I should move to help her or just leave her alone. I finally decided that since she had what could be considered a weapon in her hand and she was clearly pissed off, my best move was to retreat to the shower and get ready for our company to arrive. I only managed to make it to the bottom of the metal staircase. As soon as I placed my hand on the cold railing, she finally addressed the elephant in the room that I was so desperately trying to avoid.

"Mary Margaret?" I winced at her tone. It was laced with hurt and confusion. I knew that this was going to be a topic of discussion at some point, but I was really hoping that it was after dinner. You know, around the time that I my body was reacting to having too much alcohol and I fell asleep; effectively avoiding the talk until the morning at least.

"Mom…" I started with my best defensive 'I'm your daughter and I love you with all of my heart' voice. But I was immediately interrupted.

"Oh, so now I'm Mom." I closed my eyes and dropped my head to my chest in defeat. So this is what it felt like to say something in the heat of the moment that you couldn't take back; something that a parent could and would completely misconstrue as the child being ashamed of the parent. I have to say that this is one child/parent experience that I was fine with having missed. While growing up in the foster system I never really cared about how I made the foster parents feel.

I stood frozen in my spot; I didn't know what to say next. Did I try to defend my actions or just apologize? I had a perfectly logical reason for not acknowledging her as my mother at that moment. The Swan's were having a hard enough time accepting that David was my father. They were not prepared to meet my mother and my mother was certainly not prepared to meet the Swan's; especially in the middle of the streets of Storybrooke, where the real world only existed outside of its boundaries. The whole situation was a delicate matter that needed to be approached with the utmost caution.

Although they felt like too lead sticks holding my torso in an upright position, I was finally able to move my legs in the direction of the kitchen island. I had my eyes locked on one of the bar stools that resided on the side of the island opposite of my mother. I had the feeling that it was good idea to keep that long piece of woodwork squarely between us. I was only stopped by the buzz of my phone that I felt in the back pocket of my jeans. I pulled the phone to my front, as I scanned the screen. It was a text message from my father, 'please clear up this thing with your mother before our guests arrive.' My first thought to reading his message was 'yeah right, you can't see the knife that is in her hand.' I thought better of responding and just slipped the phone back in to my pocket.

I looked up at my mother with a smirk on my face, it was now or never. I started to move toward the island again. But instead of sitting on a stool, I moved to the side and leaned on the counter. I snatched a carrot from her cutting board and took a bite before I finally spoke, "I don't have a chance to win this, do I?"

"Nope."

"Is this why Dad insisted that I come home?"

"Yep."

"Thought so."

Great, one word answers. She wasn't going to make this easy. We stood there in an awkward silence for what felt like hours. I watched as she now sliced tomatoes and she never even looked in my direction. When I opened my mouth to speak my pathetically formed apology, the sound of her voice halted mine.

"They were your first foster parents?" Her voice was small. She sounded like a child who was reluctantly asking a question and was scared to death to know the answer. Oh my god, why did I not see this? I knew that my Dad had told her about our running into them in Boston. We actually told her the story together. I could see the jealously in her eyes that day, but in the end, the Swan's were in Boston and David and Mary Margaret were in Storybrooke with me. If it were a game, she would have been declared the winner. But that all changed when the Swan's showed up at our door. The jealously reignited and I called her Mary Margaret in front of them, not Mom.

"Yeah," was the only word that I could squeeze out. I looked down at my arms that were crossed in front of me holding my body up off of the countertop. I twirled what was left of my carrot between my fingers. I thought about how I had a similar conversation with my father when we ran into the Swan's in Boston, but for some reason I was having a hard time finding the right words for my mother. Finally, I just started talking without quite knowing where this was going to go. "Please don't do this to…"

"Do what, Emma?" She interrupted. "What exactly do you not want me to do?" I couldn't help but jump to the defensive in response to her tone. Why was it so hard with her?

"This" I said waving my hands in her direction indicating the way that she was acting. The automatic raise in my voice shocked even me. "Don't do this to yourself. Please don't live in the past."

"Don't' live in the past? They got three years with my baby that I will never get. Three years!" She lifted three fingers in my direction to help stress her point.

"And you got five," I countered effectively stopping her rant. "Plus…however long we live…that's even if I die…" I furrowed my brow in contemplation, "…I haven't quite figured out if being the savior includes immortality or not." That last comment was more of a thought that I soon learned probably shouldn't have been spoken aloud.

She quickly spun on me pointing her chef knife in my direction. The move startled me a bit and I jumped back a half of step as she spoke, "don't you dare go out and start testing that theory."

I smiled. Her immediate over protective mommy reaction to my snarky remark was just what was needed to break the tension. "I'll make you a deal," I lifted my hand, gently placed it on her arm, and pushed away the knife. "If you don't start testing that theory, neither will I…for now." I added those last two words just for a reaction.

I chuckled at the look of horror crossed her face as she realized just how dangerously close she came to my face. But her smirk was quickly replaced with a smile and then a laugh as her tension eased in response to my laughter. "Oh my god, honey, I'm so sorry." She dropped the knife into the counter and pulled me into a hug.

"Mom, you need to relax. Ok?" I felt her nod against my shoulder. "I never meant to offend you this morning. I was caught off guard by them and I panicked." As she pulled away from our hug she ran her right hand down my cheek. She gave me a smile that only a mother could give her child. "They shouldn't have been able to get passed the town borders, and I have to admit that I'm a little worried that they did. Gold is involved in this somehow. I just haven't figured out how yet."

"Let's not worry about Gold tonight. Ok? I'm sure that whatever his involvement, you will figure it out. Until then, let's just get through dinner." She gave me one last smile before she went back to chopping vegetables for the salad.

"Dinner smells good, what are we having?" I decided to follow her lead in the conversation. We had moved passed the biggest issue, her jealousy, but I could feel that she still was not content with the situation.

"Chicken Marsala, broiled asparagus in garlic butter sauce, salad, and macaroni and cheese for my kid," she ended that last part with a wink. I rewarded her with a grateful smile although it seemed a little weird for her to call me her kid. Before right this moment, I had never heard her refer to me as her kid. But regardless of what she called me, the sentiment was still there.

"You know, they have something for you," I started. I wanted to give her something to look forward to this evening. I understood that the evening would be hard on her. It was certainly no picnic with Regina and me when I first came to town to be with Henry. And yes, the situation was a little different, but she had to know that it wasn't going to be all bad. I hoped.

"I don't want it," she quickly retorted. I should have expected that reaction. "They no longer have anything of mine that I want." I smiled at her and just let the comment roll away. She would change her mind when she saw the photo album. But right now she was being stubborn and it was best to just let it go.

"So, do you need to help with anything or can I go…" I didn't finish the sentence I just pointed to the bathroom over my shoulder with my thumb to indicate the shower.

"No, honey," her face softened. "Go ahead, take your shower. I'm just going to finish up here and get changed myself."

"Are you ok?" my sideways glance to her was full of skepticism.

"I'm fine…" She didn't look fine. She looked like she was about to break down into massive sobs any minute. She put on a fake smile. I smiled back as I turned to walk toward the bathroom. I stopped at the bathroom door and looked back at her. She had already turned her attention back to the salad. I put my head down as I debated my next move and before I could convince myself to just let her be, the words began to pour out of my mouth.

"Mom?" Now my voice was small and childlike. She quickly looked up in my direction. "I know that I am horrible at saying it. I know that I need to work on that…"I nervously rambled. But she stood there patiently and allowed me the time to find the statement. "…and I am…working on it." I tried to look away by my green eyes locked on to her matching green eyes. I gave her another gentle smile, "YOU are my mom. Only you, ok? Don't forget that?" In that moment, I don't think that I had ever seen her move so quickly. Before I could take a breath she was in front of me and pulled me into a bone crushing hug. "I love you, mom. I'm sorry that I don't say it often enough. But I do love you and Dad."

"Oh, sweetheart, I love you so much." She replied as she squeezed me a little tighter. I couldn't stop the lone tear that ran down my face. As she pulled back she used the pad of her thumb to wipe that tear away, just as she had done when we were in my nursery in the enchanted forest. But this time it wasn't awkward. This time it wasn't my best friend being my mom; it was my mom being my mom, who just happened to be my best friend.

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By the time that I finally emerged from my hot shower, my father was home from the station. He was sitting at the island nibbling on a chocolate chip cookie. He must have stopped for them at Granny's because they surely were not sitting on the island when I went to the shower and I wasn't in there long enough for my mother to have time to bake them. But seeing him there also made me grateful for my mother. After our heart to heart she must have realized that I didn't take any clothes into the bathroom with me, but sitting on the edge of the sink, just inside the bathroom door was a pile of fresh clean clothes.

"Hey Dad, you're home." He turned and held the plate of cookies out in my direction. I quickly reached for one before he could pull the plate away. "Where's Mom?" I asked around a small bite of cookie.

"She's getting your brother dressed for dinner." He put the plate down and turned back to the newspaper that he was reading. "Did you clear things up with her?"

"Yeah, we're good. Any trouble at the station after I left?"

"Ah…no, it was all pretty quiet." He looked up from the paper long enough to give me a smile and I shoved the rest of my cookie into my mouth. Not too soon either because Neal must have heard us talking and he was now running full speed toward my legs. With my mother right behind him; judging by the tool in her hand he was escaping the dreaded hair brush.

"Memma…"he shouted as he crashed into my legs. "Save me!" I laughed at his drama. He absolutely hated to get his hair brushed. If I had the guess it was because the bristles of the brush hurt against his scalp because his hair wasn't long enough to get tangled and knotty. He held on to my legs tightly. As my mother approached, I did the sisterly thing to do. I leaned over, wrapped my arm around his waist and in one sweeping motion I hoisted him upside down to my chest. He draped his legs over my shoulders to help keep himself from falling. His giggles were so infectious. He laughed at my mother as she stood two feet away from us with her arms crossed. My dad reached out and began to tickle his stomach. His laughing was so loud that I nearly did not hear the knock on the door.

"I'll get it," I said as I carried my little brother, still upside down, with me to the door. I knew that it was the Swan's. I opened the door and welcomed them into our home. "Hey, come in, please."

"Well, look at you. You little cutie," Jane reached to Neal and gave his belly a little tickle.

"Hi…" he yelled. Darren and Jane both laughed at him. I quickly turned him upright and perched him on my hip.

"You are just the cutest little boy," she said gaping at him. She turned her attention to me, "I can't believe how much he looks like you did at that age." She said it with such nonchalance and grace that it threw my defensives off to the point that I didn't flinch when she leaned into me for a hug. When my mind caught up to the reality my body recoiled with tension; especially when I caught the look on my mother's face. The jealousy was back with full force. Now this woman was fawning over my little brother and making comparisons between him and I that my mother could not make. If ever the phrase 'starting off on the wrong note' rang true, it was right now.

My father must have recognized it as well, "Please come in, make yourselves at home. Emma?" He pulled Neal from my arms and motioned to my mother with his eyes. I picked up the hint.

"Darren…Jane…I would like you to meet my mother, Mary Margaret." She cut across the room quickly with her hand outstretched.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said. She wore a friendly smile but I could see that her teeth were tightly clenched. "Dinner will be ready shortly." She clapped her hands together as she brought her eyes to meet mine, "I hope everyone likes chicken Marsala…"

"Oh that is our favorite, isn't it Darren…" Jane exclaimed with delight.

"Of course it is…" My mom deadpanned then spun on her heals and headed back to the kitchen.

"Emma is that still your favorite, as well? Oh how she used to eat that up when I made it."

I noticeably flinched when I heard the oven door slam shut. I looked with pleading eyes to my father for help. He only shrugged. "Mom, can I help with something?"

"No, I have it, everything is ok." I heard the utensil drawer slam shut. Everything was far from ok. I went to the kitchen anyway. David had taken the Swan's and seated them around the table. We were definitely in silent agreement to get this dinner over with as soon as possible.

"I told you that I have this, go sit down, sweetheart…" I nodded as I turned. I didn't have the energy to compete with her stubbornness. She was obviously trying to put on a show for the Swans. She was like a dog marking her territory; she was going to do everything in her power to show the Swans that I was her family and not theirs.

My eyes caught the sight of the cookies that my father had brought from Granny's. I held up a finger and gave a little nod, "I'll put on pot of coffee for after dinner…" I thought that it was a good idea. I felt like I was helping my mother and she wasn't alone in the kitchen seemingly doing everything by herself. But the offended gasp that escaped her throat said otherwise. "What?" I asked, clearly I did not understand the problem with a pot of coffee.

Her eyes were widened like she just watched me kick a kitten or something. "We always have hot chocolate after dinner."

I think that I needed a crane to lift my bottom jaw off of the floor. Was she really taking it to this level? I was starting to think that this wasn't jealously anymore, it was insecurity. How the hell was I supposed to combat her insecure feelings toward the Swans? "Ah…um…I'll make hot chocolate too." Ok that seemed like the right track, her face softened a little, "Just for me and you." I put my lips together for a thin tight smile, and she did the same. Wow, this was hard.

"Dinner is served," my mother announced as she laid the hot dish of macaroni and cheese onto the table. "Chicken Marsala and mac and cheese for my baby," she ran her hand down my upper arm as she passed me on her way to the kitchen to put away her oven mitts. I was starting to figure out how to keep her in check during this dinner. Thankfully my father picked up on what was happening and he kept Darren and Jane engaged in happy conversation. "Thanks, mom," I said digging into the macaroni and cheese first. She made that for me because she knew that I liked it and with the announcement of chicken marsala being the Swan's favorite, I made sure to have a larger helping of mac and cheese. It was the little things that made her feel superior.

Throughout dinner, the Swan's told my parents the few stories that they had of my first three years. They told the stories of my first words, my first steps, my favorite toys, and how I reacted to starting daycare/preschool. Jane was an elementary teacher so although she was able to spend the summer days at home with me, she did work the rest of the year which required me to attend daycare as a toddler. I listened to their stories, I didn't remember of them, but I kept my eyes on my mother. She said very little to nothing in response to our guests. Her jaw remained clenched; I could tell that she didn't like the fact that she shared a profession with Jane Swan, among other things that they had in common…ahem…her daughter.

"Well, Darren, I think that we better get back to the bed and breakfast, we are leaving early in the morning for Boston," Jane said as she finished her last mouthful of coffee. And of course, that was the comment that brought the biggest smile of the evening to my mom's face. She didn't even try to hide it.

"Thank you so much for joining us this evening; it was a pleasure to meet you." I furrowed my brow to the complete attitude change in my mother. "Please have a safe trip back to Boston, tomorrow." That is what she said, but what I heard was 'don't show up here again.'

"Oh, I almost forgot," Jane stopped to pick up a bag that she had set down next to the door when she came in. "This is for you. We thought that it was only right that you have this," she handed the bag to my mother. David and I knew the contents. Mary Margaret accepted the bag with a smile and a "Thank you," but she did not look to see what was inside. She simply stood in her spot and held the handles of the bag, David shook hands with the Swan's and walked them to door. He also thanked them for the gift, he also told them to "come back again," a comment to which my mother outwardly groaned.

I smiled and gave them each a hug, before I left them to join my brother in the living room. He was still munching his after dinner cookie while he watched some cartoon on the television. I wanted to give my mother the time that she needed to be alone with the photo album. I watched her out of the corner of my eye, when David finally closed the door behind our guests; she just dropped the bag to the floor and went to her bedroom. I started to get up to follow her, but my father signaled for me to stay with my brother. He picked up the bag and followed her into the room.

I couldn't hear their conversation, but I could hear the gentle sobs that escaped my mother. I kept Neal occupied for another 45 minutes before I noticed that his eyes were drooping. I let my parents have their time together as I prepared Neal for bed and finally tucked him in for the night. The events of the night didn't seem to faze him much; he only asked why our parents were not tucking him in as usual. I just explained that, "Mommy isn't feeling well after dinner, but she'll be better in the morning." He accepted that answer and closed his eyes.

After getting Neal to bed, I cleaned up the dinner dishes. Things were quiet in my parents' bedroom. I debated on whether or not I should check on them. After I had everything put away, I finally decided that I should at least tell them goodnight. I approached the curtain that separated their room from the rest of the apartment and hesitantly peak my head inside. "Mom, Dad?" I said as I noticed their position, they were both on the bed with their backs against the headboard, cuddle close together. They had a book spread out between them, it wasn't the photo album, it was something different. They looked up when they heard me, "Everything is cleaned up and Neal is in bed. I just wanted to tell you goodnight."

My mother reached her arms up in my direction. It was a motion that begged me to come to her. I obliged. As I got closer to her bed I realized that the book that they were looking at was my baby book. The Swan's had kept track of all of my doctor appointments, first words, first steps, first teeth and filled it with pictures of each event. And they gave it all to them. I peeked into the bag that was next to their bed, it was more than just a picture album. It was everything that they had saved from my first three years with them; every story that they told at dinner and complimentary item in the bag.

I sat on the bed and let my mother hug me close. Soon my father joined the hug. I let them hold for as long as they needed, before I finally whispered, "I love you, guys." All of us had tears streaming down our faces. It had taken me 28 years to find this and I wasn't giving it up for anything in the world.


End file.
